


BFFs

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Gen, K2 - Freeform, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, One Shot, Oneshot, Please Love me, a really dumb oneshot, barely even k2, it's also my first time on ao3, kenyle, kynny, kyny, south park fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:25:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9403538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The best of friends can finish each other's sentences.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this is essentially my first time ever writing a oneshot and posting it besides The One Time I'll Never Speak About, so heyo!! how are y'all
> 
> i don't claim to own south park or any of its characters
> 
> this isn't really "shippy" but it's based off of the "BFFs" sketch by rhett&link

Kenny McCormick and Kyle Broflovski sit next to each other on Kyle's comfy couch, eating buttery popcorn from a bowl between them, watching an old (but gold) episode of Terrance & Phillip.

Originally Kyle's well-organized plan had been to spend the lazy evening playing video games with Stan and, reluctantly, Cartman, since Kyle's overbearing parents weren't home. However, Stan had apologetically called in sick, stumbling over his words with a stuffy voice, and Cartman was... Cartman. Most likely he'd ditched to shovel fistfuls of cheesy poofs into his gaping mouth, the fatass. Since neither of them attended, the pool of video games was severely limited.

On the screen, the Canadian comedians laugh in their high-pitched accents at simple but vaguely amusing fart jokes. Kyle turns to Kenny. "Is it okay if I--"

"--change the channel? Yeah, sure," Kenny finishes muffledly, throwing a kernel of popcorn into the air and catching it in his mouth, just to show off. As Kyle flicks through the channels idly with the remote, Kenny proudly states, "I knew what you were going to say."

Kyle freezes, the channels stopped on a red-faced Gordon Ramsay screaming at someone. "What?"

"Yeah," Kenny puts his feet up on the coffee table, to Kyle's vague annoyance. "I wasn't going to mention it, but I did. It's been happening since I got here, and... it's kinda been freaking me out. But it's also cool. Like a superpower." The redhead skeptically raises an eyebrow without turning to the other boy. "I think it's because I was standing next to the microwave while the popcorn was popping. Cool origin story, right?"

Kyle tilts his head from side-to-side, as if in thought. The remote's still in his hand, the channel back on Terrance and Phillip's cackles. "So what am I about to say?" they both ask. Kenny raises his gloved hands, like he's silently saying,  _See?_

"You're not predicting what I'm about to say, you're just saying it right after I'm saying it." Kyle says calmly, Kenny's voice mimicking his words with a slight delay. "It's like that thing Cartman does sometimes to get on everyone's nerves. Specifically,  _my_ nerves." Just Kenny - "That's _not_  what's happening." Both - "That definitely  _is_ what's happening."

"I thought you said you and Stan were going to be supportive of me no matter what, Kyle," Kenny mocks, "What about now? What if this  _is_ a new talent?" Together - "But it's not even a talent!"

Kyle sighs loudly and exasperatedly. "See. If. I. Speak. Very. Quickly. Like. This. It. Becomes. Apparent. What. You're. Doing." He speaks each word as quickly as possible, with a slight pause after, and Kenny echoes each word. It's Kyle's turn to raise his hands triumphantly.

"I think I'm  _still_ doing it!" Kenny protests, unconvinced.

"But  _anybody_ can do what you're doing!  _I_ can do what you're doing--" Kyle presses his hand firmly over Kenny's mouth, silencing him while trying to ignore the weird feeling of Kenny licking his palm to gross him out. "Listen, stop, let me speak for a second. I'll demonstrate that I have this 'talent' of yours. Just say anything."

Kenny pauses, looking into the redhead's emerald green eyes as if looking for a lie. Kyle meets his keen blue-eyed gaze steadily. "The purple whistle slowly orbits Taser stinky." The blonde says, Kyle mimicking the words just like Kenny had been.

"You're not doing it dude, you're just copying me, it's different, STOP IT!" Kenny continues to protest with Kyle mocking him word-for-word. Kyle grins victoriously. "See? And, if you actually had this 'ability,' I should be able to start a word, and you end it, right?"

The boy freezes, thinks, then a sly grin begins to dawn on his face, like it would if he's been included in a plan to pull a well-developed prank on Cartman. "I should, and I  _will._ " Kenny states confidently.

"Right... okay. Um... suuuu..."

"-riasis."

"-mmer. Did you just say psoriasis?"

"Yeah, because that was what you were about to say!"

Kyle scoffs, rolling his eyes. "I wasn't ever gonna say psoriasis."

"Whatever. Lemme try again!"

"Erm... buuuuu..."

"-nions."

"-ffalo. Jesus, dude, why's everything you say an embarrassing medical condition?!"

"Because you were going to-- dammit, just give me another one."

"Fine! And I can promise you, this will  _not_ be a humilating--"

"-medical condition."

Kyle presses his lips into a tight line annoyedly. "Okay. Her..."

"-pes simplex type 2."

"-self." Kyle raises an eyebrow, as if to mock,  _See?_

Kenny crosses his arms and turns away from Kyle like a child in the midst of a tantrum. "Well.. what if I  _did_ have this talent, but you're just sapping it with your.. your negative energy! Maybe I need to stand next to the microwave." He adds to himself, swiping the now-empty bowl of popcorn.

As soon as Kyle hears the sound of the microwave door opening, he hastily types away at a text, hesitating over the 'send' button. When the ding sounds, he finally lets his finger press it, and slides the phone beneath the couch cushion in a slight panic when he hears Kenny coming.

The other boy flops down next to Kyle, placing the bowl between them again. "Look Kyle, I'm sorry. It's just.. I thought it was really something, y'know?" Kyle nods mutely, his expression blank and stony.

Suddenly, the door flies open for two men in black. The TV screen, still displaying the classic comedians, is reflected in their dark black helmets. "Wh-" Kenny begins to say, interrupted when they both grab him, one for each of his arms, and drag him out the door. "Hey! What are you doing?!" The boy flails wildly, attempting to kick out at one of their shins. The men remain silent, unanswering. "Kyle! Help me!" The boy with the green ushanka merely turns away, hiding the tears slipping down his face as he bites his lip to keep it from inevitably quivering. "What are you doing?!" The men shove him to the back of a white van that almost seems to glow in the night, slamming the doors. "Stop! Let me go!" Kenny screams, pounding on the window. "Kyle! I hate you!" He screeches, like another bullet to Kyle's heart. Abruptly, he stops completely with a pained sound like a cross between a scream and a sob.

A third man in black rolls out a wheelchair with a barefoot boy sitting in it, a beige sack over his head. The man guides the boy out of the chair when he reaches the sofa and helps him onto it. He nods to Kyle, who can barely look at the spot where his eyes would be beneath the pitch black visor, before walking away while pulling the wheelchair along. A few moments later, there's the sound of the van starting and rolling away.

Kyle, kneeling before the boy in an orange parka, gently lifts the sack off of the boy's head in one smooth motion. The boy blinks due to the sudden change of light and shakes his head, causing his disheveled blonde hair to fall over his eyes slightly. He begins to focus on the boy, red-eyed from his tears that he'd hastily wiped away with his sleeve, in front of him.

"Hi Kenny," Kyle says quietly with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, pulling the hood over the other boy's head, "My name is Kyle. I'm your best friend."

And the blonde smiles back.

***

The blonde boy in the orange parka impatiently presses his face to the microwave door, watching the bowl of popcorn slowly rotate inside.


End file.
